“Oh, of course. Though I’m heartbroken it wasn’t me you wanted.” Piercy smiled knowingly and winked at her. “I will show you where you can refresh yourself, and then we can dance again.” He offered her his arm, and after a brief hesitation, she took it.
He showed her the hallway to the water closets, then said, “I’ll just wait for you here, shall I?”
“You should not wait,” Lady Caligwe said. Piercy was beginning to be annoyed by those almost certainly false smiles.
“Oh, I wouldn’t want us to be separated,” he said, and was heartened to see her smile waver.
“I’m quite gratified at your agreeing to dance with me a second time,” he said when she emerged. “I must confess I find you utterly fascinating.”
“You are kind.”
“I am honest. You must not have seen the many admiring glances directed your way this evening. I almost had to fight a duel with Claxton Aldenter to win the pleasure of your company.”
She ducked her head and laughed, a delicate sound at odds with the low cadences of her voice. “What is it to duel, in Dalanine?”
“We would meet at dawn, in a secluded place,” Piercy said in a hushed, secretive voice, but with a twinkle in his eye to show her he wasn’t serious. “Our seconds would attempt to bring us to a reconciliation, which of course we would both spurn. Then we would each take a pistol and stand some distance apart, and, one at a time, attempt to shoot each other dead.”
The golden eyes went wide. “You would not die?”
“Of course not. Duels are illegal, anyway. But I assure you—“ Piercy stopped and took both her hands in his. “I assure you there is very little I would not risk to know you held me in high esteem.”
This time he actually saw her blush, the faintest hint of color on her dark skin. She cast down her eyes. “I cannot say,” she said in a low voice.
“Then we will dance, and perhaps you will find the words,” Piercy said, and swept her into the whirl.
It was difficult to tell, because the disguised princess was very good at her pretense, but Piercy believed his seduction was working. It was the way she kept avoiding his eyes, which she hadn’t done until he’d begun charming her in earnest. He loved this feeling of knowing a beautiful woman found him attractive, loved the anticipation of what she might say or do next in response to his romantic overtures. It was a thrill like nothing else, except perhaps a difficult assignment, but that was a different kind of thrill and not one that was likely to end in a kiss in a shadowy corner.
This time, when the dance ended, she took his arm before he could offer it to her, a very encouraging sign. “I see no admirers. I think you exaggerate,” she said, and to his surprise he discovered she was teasing him.
“Well, Claxton Aldenter is still giving me the look that says he wishes I were buried to my neck in fertilizer, so I’m not exaggerating much,” he said.
She gave him another shy glance. “You should show me this Claxton Aldenter.”
“Oh, no. I am not so foolish as that. You might prefer him to me, and then my heartbreak would know no end.”
“I think it is unlikely.” She was smiling again, and she was also steering him back in the direction of the forbidden halls. She was persistent, wasn’t she? Piercy made a lightning-fast decision.
“I would love to show you the gardens, my lady, if you don’t mind,” he said.
The faintest trace of irritation flashed across Lady Caligwe’s face, then the smile was back. “The outside will be cooler,” she said. “It is a good idea.”
The glass roof of the gallery revealed a sky speckled with white stars, faded somewhat by the light of the half-moon. They walked in silence past other couples who’d had the same idea. More clematis grew along the windows, its blooms pale in the moonlight against the darker greenery, reminding Piercy of how the two of them must look together, his pale skin and light coat matched with her dark beauty and the rich red of her gown.
At the top of the stairs, they stood for a moment and looked out over the garden. It was open near the palace, a broad expanse of lawn with a square flowerbed in the center, and beyond that trees grew up in rows bounded by high hedges that cast pale shadows in the moonlight.
“Let us walk, and see where the garden goes,” Piercy said. They descended the stairs, arm in arm, and strolled toward the trees. There were other couples taking the air, but as if by some unspoken agreement, they all stayed well away from each other, which allowed Piercy the illusion that he and Lady Caligwe were the only two people in the garden. The new leaves on the trees gave only partial concealment from the watchful eye of the moon, and Lady Caligwe trailed her hand along the leaves of the hedges like running her fingers through a clear stream.
“It is beautiful,” she said. “We have something like this at home, but it is new, not grown like this.”
“I wish I could see it,” Piercy said. “If I came to Bellema, would you show it to me?”
There went the smile again. “If you wish. It is not as good a garden to…for anyone to go so far to see.”
“I confess I would go exclusively to see you. You are fascinating.”
“I am just myself. My lady princess is fascinating.”
“I imagine she is.” Piercy gently put two fingers under her chin and raised her head so those golden eyes met his. “But you…you have a fascination all your own.”
“You would think of me, and not of my lady?”
He couldn’t tell if she were blushing or not, in the low light, but her luminous eyes were fixed on him and her lips were parted as if she wanted to speak but couldn’t find the words. She was unspeakably beautiful, there in the moonlight, and he whispered, “I cannot imagine even thinking of your princess when you are near,” and kissed her, lightly, with a skill born of years of experience.
To his surprise, she put her hand around his neck and kissed him back. Her kiss was inexpert, but wholehearted, tender, and before he could stop himself he took her in his arms and kissed her again, sincerely this time, pulling her close to feel her body against his. She sighed, a soft, contented sound, and a hundred warning bells went off inside his head: you’ve gone too far, you shouldn’t have done it, if you cause an international incident Tedoratis will terminate you, possibly not metaphorically!
He gently disentangled himself from her and said with a smile, “I apologize for my impertinence, but I was carried away by the moment.”
She lowered her head briefly, then looked up at him, smiling without a trace of shyness. “I did not mind,” she said. “I have never been kissed before.”
The look in her eyes of such innocent pleasure sent a rush of guilt flooding through him. He really had gone too far. “I find that extremely difficult to believe,” he said, casting about for a way to end this conversation gracefully, then listened to his own words with horror and said, “that is, you are so beautiful—you mean to say you have had no suitors?”
“I think men are…intimidated, I think is the word. They know who I am and it makes them reluctant to court me.”
“The more fools they, then.”
“And you are not a fool.”
“Oh, I am a fool, just not about that.” A Gods-cursed, arrogant fool. “And I think we should return now.”
The walk back to the stairs took forever and Piercy drowned in shame and self-recrimination the whole way. What an utter bastard he’d been, seducing a woman just to prove he could. And now she believed he…what? That he was interested in courting her, certainly, and that his heart was more engaged than it actually was. He wished he’d never met Lady Caligwe. No, this wasn’t her fault; it was all on his head.
When they returned to the ball, the king was gone and the room was far less crowded, even though it wasn’t yet midnight. Tedoratis had said these events, unlike similar ones in the city, rarely went on very long after the king left. Piercy left Lady Caligwe with the “princess,” bade them both goodnight, and made his escape.
He berated himself
further while he stood on the steps of the palace, waiting for a carriage to take him home. He wished he could walk, give himself time to think, but one didn’t walk in full court attire, if only because the shoes weren’t made for such exertion. He’d led Lady Caligwe to believe he felt more than he did—yes, she was beautiful, and yes, he was attracted to her, but she was a princess and he was supposed to be showing her how wonderful Dalanine was, not fooling her into a courtship he had neither means nor inclination to pursue. And now, if he didn’t pursue what he’d started, she’d be angry or heartbroken or both, and that would be the end of Dalanine’s hopes and, probably, Piercy’s career.
There was nothing for it, he reflected as the carriage trundled him toward his townhouse; he would have to be extremely careful from here not to make any promises he couldn’t, or shouldn’t, keep. No matter how beautiful she was or how much he’d enjoyed kissing her. He could still feel her soft lips on his, her hand around his neck pulling him closer, and the memory made his heart speed up. No, he could not continue to court Lady Caligwe, pretending to feel something for her he didn’t. He leaned his head back and sighed. Thirteen more days, and Princess Jendaya would return to Santerre. It would be a very long thirteen days.
Chapter Four
The carriage drew up to the velocitor station, whose golden arches and glass panels caught the morning sunlight and reflected it back at Piercy like shining daggers stabbing his eyes. He squinted and ducked his head. A sleepless night had turned into a late morning, and now he was in a hurry not to miss the velocitor, which would take the ambassador’s party about seventy miles south to the zoological gardens just north of Rainoth. Only three years ago, that journey would have taken two days; now, it took two hours. And today the line was reserved for the ambassador’s party, which Piercy appreciated from the perspective of security even as he had sympathy for those who wouldn’t be traveling today. Someday soon, there would be several velocitors, and more rails on which they could travel, and who knew how that would transform the country?
He trotted up the steps into the station with his stick tucked under one arm and found the party had not departed yet. In fact, the princess was not there, and neither were her ladies-in-waiting. Piercy made for Tedoratis and said, quietly, “Is anything wrong?”
“Her Highness just needs more time for her toilette,” Tedoratis said with a grimace. “Is…Lady Caligwe…enjoying herself?”
Piercy suppressed a memory of that beautiful kiss. “I believe so, Miss Tedoratis.”
“Good. Make sure she has anything she needs, and if you can, drop a few words about how much Dalanine appreciates its southern neighbor. We’d like to extend the main velocitor line all the way to Bellema, if they’re willing.”
“I will do my best, Miss Tedoratis.”
“Excellent. Ah, they’re coming now.”
The princess and her attendants were garbed in Dalanese spring dresses of printed cotton with full skirts and fitted bodices and looked both exotic and out of place at once. Piercy caught Lady Caligwe’s eye and smiled at her, a friendly smile with no hidden seduction, but she ducked her head as if he’d openly asked her to kiss him again. “Miss Tedoratis, I apologize for our lateness,” the princess said.
“Not at all, your Highness,” Tedoratis said with no sign of irritation. “Your comfort is important to us.”
“So, this is your velocitor.” The princess walked up to the velocitor to examine it closely. The giant steel cylinder, ten feet in diameter and twice that in length, shone even more brightly in the morning sun than the station. Tiny green and blue lights, the outward sign of the spells that impelled it, made glowing traceries along the seams where the steel sheets were joined together and around the many wheels that were nearly taller than Piercy. The whole thing was attached to an iron cradle on which the cylinder rested. A magician was climbing up the ladder at the rear leading to the cabin where he would cast the spells that made the velocitor run.
“It’s the latest product of Dalanine’s magical research,” Tedoratis said. “It can go for miles with very little magical assistance, pulling those cars—” she pointed to long carriages whose glass windows revealed blue velvet seats and mahogany paneling—“behind it. That’s where we’ll ride.”
“Fascinating,” the princess said. “Shall we go?”
Piercy approached Lady Caligwe to offer her assistance into the carriage, but as he passed the princess, she said, “Mr. Faranter, isn’t it?”
“Your Highness,” Piercy said with a bow.
“Ayane tells me you know something of this engine. Perhaps you could sit with me and explain it?”
Startled, Piercy said, “I’m afraid I don’t know very much—”
“Nonsense. Come, let’s talk.” She took his arm and steered him forcefully in the direction of the third carriage, where most of the diplomatic party had gathered. Piercy had just enough time to direct an apologetic look at Lady Caligwe, but she was looking at the man whose arm she’d taken—oh, by Cath’s five hells, it was Claxton Aldenter. The man had the personal charm of a ferret and a brain to match. Now Piercy sent an alarmed look in Tedoratis’s direction; she looked irritated, but shrugged fractionally. They’d just have to hope Aldenter’s lack of social graces didn’t put the disguised princess off Dalanine entirely.
The false princess was a charming companion and very intelligent. Whom had they found to play this role? Some actress, perhaps? Piercy tried to keep an eye on Lady Caligwe without appearing bored with the princess. She was smiling at Aldenter, he kept leaning close as if exchanging confidences, and unexpected jealousy stabbed at Piercy.
He smiled and nodded at something the princess said and reminded himself he didn’t want to make a romantic connection, had no right to pursue Lady Caligwe. Yet the unsettling image of her kissing Aldenter wouldn’t leave his mind.
“Tell me of these gardens we are seeing today, Mr. Faranter,” the princess said, and Piercy dragged his attention back to her. “Do they have many flowers?”
“There are flowers, yes, your Highness, but this is a zoological garden, where animals are kept to be observed and studied. We have many interesting creatures.”
“You keep them caged? That seems cruel.”
“I understand the cages are comfortable and large, and many of them mimic the animals’ natural habitats.”
“I wonder how anyone knows the animals are comfortable? Do you suppose their keepers spend the night with them to find out?” The princess’s eyes twinkled at him.
“I doubt anyone would like to sleep curled up with a tiger, your Highness,” Piercy said with a smile, and quickly glanced at Lady Caligwe while the princess laughed. She was enjoying herself, damn it, enjoying Claxton Aldenter’s company, of all people. He resolutely stopped looking her way. Nothing he could do about it except wait until they reached the gardens and separate her from Aldenter quickly and decisively.
But when they arrived at their destination, the princess said, “There is a dinner laid out for us; will you join me, Mr. Faranter?” and he could hardly say no to that. The pavilion was festooned with ribbons in the blue and grey of the house of Hathakuni, its shade cool, but Piercy could barely stay focused on his meal. Half his attention was given to watching Claxton Aldenter flirt awkwardly with Lady Caligwe. How could he get her away from the man?
When they rose from the dinner tables, he was about to bow and take his leave of the princess when she extended her arm to him and said, “You will show me these gardens now, and we will decide if the animals are comfortable or not.” Once again he was left with no way to disengage himself. He took the princess’s arm and escorted her into the gardens. Lady Caligwe and Aldenter were strolling up the path ahead of them; she had her face lifted to address him, and he was patting her hand, and she was altogether too enthusiastic—
By the Gods. She’s outmaneuvered me.
She wasn’t trying to charm Aldenter, she’d exaggerated Piercy’s knowledge of the velocitor so the princess would
claim him as a companion—she’d found a way to slip free of his attentive care so she could investigate unhindered. She might even have told the “princess” what to do.
Piercy nodded and smiled at something he’d half-heard Princess Jendaya say. Had he been mistaken last night? Had he not made inroads on winning her interests, if not her heart? No, he was confident he could tell when a woman was interested. He’d just forgotten she was a princess of a country that had endured all manner of horrors in recent years and was unlikely to be swayed from her mission regardless of her feelings, romantic or otherwise.
He answered a question from the princess absently, no longer very interested in their conversation. The situation was starting to be confusing. He knew who ‘Lady Caligwe’ was; she knew he was there to keep her from roaming free; but did she know he knew what her game was? If she thought he was just a flirt who’d been assigned to romance her, she likely wouldn’t guess he knew what she was doing. Either way, it didn’t change anything; he had to regain her companionship and tell Tedoratis what Lady Caligwe was doing, leave Tedoratis to manage the false princess and keep her from interfering.
They reached the far end of the gardens and turned back, Piercy struggling not to let his irritation show. Who knew charming a woman—two women—could be so much like work? He was having trouble staying interested in the animals they passed and gave the princess very short but still polite answers to her many, many questions.
When they finally reached the green flowering arch of the gate, which was low enough Piercy had to duck under it—such poor planning—he said, “May I escort you back to the pavilion, your Highness? I am certain they will be able to procure you a cool drink.”
“I think I would prefer to look at the velocitor again,” she said. “I would like to understand it better if we are to import them for use in Santerre.”
“That seems an excellent idea.” He steered them around the pavilion and up the slope toward the velocitor. “I hope our countries—”
Brilliant white light erupted in front of them, blinding Piercy, followed an instant later by an explosion almost too loud to hear. A giant fist punched him, flinging him backward and knocking the wind from his lungs. He lay, dazed, propped on something that clutched at his hair and coat, trying to inhale for several breaths. Finally he struggled to sit up. It was the hedge surrounding the gardens that he’d landed on, it prickled his skin, but the world had gone silent. All he saw, when he blinked hard, was a giant black spot in front of his face.
The God-Touched Man Page 4